Come Home to Papa
by axelkairi
Summary: Series of drabbles starring Terra and Kefka. Also, slight moments of Kefka/Celes, or various other pairings.
1. Swimming Pool

**Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VI.**

A/N: Well, I've fallen in love with the Kefka/Terra couple! It's so wrong; I love it! And I can't figure out a long-term storyline for them, so I'll just write a bunch of drabbles. I just printed out a giant list of random words and cut them out and put them in a jar to pick from. I'll try and get these out regularly, but don't expect much :/ I live a surprisingly busy life. Anyway! Here we go! Hope you like!

P.S. This is the first time I've worked with Kefka, and the second with Terra, so pardon me if they're a bit out of character at times. Hopefully as I get more used to them, that'll get much better.

**Come Home to Papa**

**Prompt #1**

**Swimming Pool**

She went to the stream again that afternoon. She couldn't remember when she'd discovered it, or how long she'd been going, but any time she could slink away and soak in the sun-warmed waters, she ran as fast as she could.

They were trying to get something out of her, whether it was an emotion or a memory or something else. Slipping off her shoes to dip her toes into the water, Terra sighed, letting herself forget how they antagonized her, interrogated her, tested her until she couldn't bear it any longer.

She didn't worry about getting wet – she waded into the water fully-clothed, watching her light tights grow darker with every step, until the water reached her skirt, the fabric pooling out around her, then dipping under the surface. Her fingertips danced across the stream, rippling and dancing, then dunking under, her sleeves sticking her arms, her shirt sticking to her torso. She shivered as the water ran slowly up the length of her spine, then sighed as the warmth enveloped her like a hot spring. Her shoulders went under, and she took a deep breath before diving in, bursting up again with a breath, sweeping her wet hair off her forehead.

The precious time alone… It was more than she could ask for, when she was kept under such a strict watch since before she could remember.

Unfortunately, the solace was an illusion. Throughout her many visits, a man had followed her, if only to make sure she didn't run off, but over time his curiosity got the best of him. She was a beautiful girl – but that wasn't what made Kefka stay, tucked away behind the rocks. It was the possibility that all the pressure they were forcing on her, all the stress and fear, was inhibiting her natural powers. What could she do when she was free from all that, if only for a moment?

So he watched as she ran her fingers through her hair, pushing it out of her eyes. Watched as she floated on her back, gently paddling with her feet. Watched as she swirled her index finger in circles on the surface of the stream, lifted it up…

And the water followed.

Her eyes went wide and she splayed her fingers – more water shot up to engulf her hand like a giant glove, sliding up her arm like vines. A scream escaped her throat and she tried to hop out of the water, stumbling. The water twirled after her as if in a chase.

Kefka couldn't stop the smile that stretched his features. _Finally._

He moved to help her, but froze at her voice:

"Kefka!"

For a heartbeat, he was struck, not by the force of her voice or the terror it held, but at the fact that she had screamed _his_ name first, before any others.

Quickly, he wiped the smile away and darted out into the open, pressing a button on his Magitek gauntlet and blowing the water away with an air spell. He gathered the frightened, babbling girl into his arms and promised it was all fine, it was all alright.

And it was. His plan could finally begin.


	2. Data Base

**Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VI.**

A/N: I'm so happy I already have two reviews! And in one day! Thanks so much for liking my story :) Well, here it goes with the next one! Hope you like!

**Come Home to Papa**

**Prompt #2**

**Data Base**

Terra closed her eyes against the blinking lights in front of her, the shining metal and steel and burning bronze surrounding her. Her fingers twitched from wrists held down onto the arms of an iron chair, her ankles strapped down as well – she'd gotten out of the neck strap that time, though, and for that she was thankful.

_Fire,_ she thought, forming the word in her mind until it was nearly as tangible as a boulder on her foot. _Fire. Fire. Fire._

But nothing was happening. All she needed was one small flame, an ember to dance in front of her, just to prove to these people – researchers, they were called, when they were really information gluttons – that what she could do was real. So they could enter it into their _data base_, whatever that meant.

This was the third time they'd tried. With no results.

There was a large mirror running the length of the right wall, but she knew well enough that it was a one-sided window. There they stood, watching the sweat form on her brow, her teeth clench behind her lips.

A bell chimed to signal the intercom, and a voice came through. "Miss Branford, you'll have to try harder than that," one of the gluttons informed her.

_Really?_ she thought sarcastically, glaring at the ground as if it was their face.

Behind the glass, Kefka leaned back in a chair, until it nearly fell back, his fingers strumming the arms. "That won't work, you know," he said matter-of-factly.

The male researcher spun around, surprised to see him there. "General," he greeted in a sigh, sending him a lazy salute. "What do you mean, sir?"

Kefka turned his head to look the man up and down, and laughed.

"Something funny, sir?" the man asked.

Kefka ignored him. "I mean nothing will happen if she tries for it," he said, slowly spinning the chair.

The female researcher in the room set down her clipboard and crossed her arm. "Then what would you rather we say to her?" she asked, her tone defiant.

Kefka stopped spinning and faced her, his bright eyes focused and hard. The woman swallowed.

Finally, Kefka stood, the male researcher stepping back to allow him room. "Let me handle this," he told them. "Open the door."

Terra blinked her eyes open when she heard the door's lock click open. Kefka looked different; his normal coffee-colored clothes had been traded for a costume of bright colors, checkers, and stripes. He looked like some sort of clown, but at least his face was the same as she remembered. Sun-tanned skin, icy blue eyes, and blonde hair that fell in soft waves around his face.

"It's you," she breathed out in relief as he approached her. Although his presence relaxed her, her fingers still twitched, her foot still tapped against the floor, her heart still raced. And from the unfamiliar, hard look in his eyes, it only raced faster.

"Terra." Her name was an exhausted sigh tripping off his lips. He kneeled down in front of her chair so he was at eye level with her. "I need you to do something for me."

"Anything," she answered automatically.

He flashed her a smile, the soft one that she used to be such good friends with, and then it was gone. He covered her hand with his, gently holding her fingers down. "Breathe," he told her, and she did. "Close your eyes, and relax."

She closed her eyes, but relaxing was a much easier task in her stream, not in this man-made prison cell.

"Let your heart slow down," he said, his voice lulling and monotone, two fingers touching the vein at her wrist to monitor her pulse. "There's no pressure, darling. Just calm down, and think warm thoughts."

Her heart jumped before it slowed. How could she not think warm thoughts when he was calling her darling?

There it was, her pulse was finally slowing down. Kefka didn't let the smile come forward, not yet. "Warm thoughts," he reminded her gently.

"Warm," she repeated. His hand was warm on hers. _Like a little fire…_

She heard the rush and crackle of air and opened her eyes to a tiny, flickering flame in the middle of the room. Kefka stood and moved aside, focusing on it. He gave her hand a tiny squeeze. "Good work, my darling."

And then he left, and the lock clicked shut.

* * *

><p>"She's not cooperating again," the female researcher groaned.<p>

"She's trying too hard," the male researcher concurred. The esper girl was struggling again, this time with water. A cup full of water was placed before her, with an empty cup next to it, and she was to transfer the water from cup to cup. So far, all she'd created were ripples.

"How are we supposed to calm her down without the General?" he questioned, rubbing his chin. The General made things look so easy – he just said a few words to the girl and suddenly she was summoning all kinds of elements. Now, without him, she couldn't handle water? Interesting would be the word for it if he wasn't so irritated.

The woman pressed the intercom button. "Miss Branford, we need you to calm down."

"I'm trying!" she yelled back, balling her hands into fists.

"Ma'am, you're actually only making it harder –"

"Let her." Kefka's voice rang strong in the small room. His footsteps bounced off the walls, and the woman moved aside for him; he pressed his palms down on the control panel and leaned forward to stare at Terra.

"What, sir?" the man asked incredulously.

"Let her!" Kefka repeated. "I want to see this."

"See what, sir?"

Kefka shushed him loudly and pressed the intercom button. "Losing it, darling?" he asked the esper girl.

Her eyes flew open, and for just a moment it seemed that she relaxed. "Kefka? That's you?"

"You can't control it, can you?" he said, almost accusingly.

"General!" the female protested.

Kefka waved her away. "Remember the stream? The water took control of you, not the other way around."

"Stop…" Terra said weakly, staring at the ground.

"Let it! Let them take control! Give yourself a rest and let them live for you –"

"Stop it!" Terra yelled.

"Let go!" Kefka roared. "Lose yourself in the power!"

Terra screamed, gripping the arms of the chair and throwing her head back, as if in agony.

The male researcher pulled Kefka away from the intercom and grabbed his arms. "What are you doing, General?" he demanded. "This isn't what we're meant to do!"

Kefka grabbed the man's arms tightly, making him let go. "Your job is to put recordings into the data base, so record!" He pushed the man away and turned back to Terra. "Trust me, you'll want to see this."

Terra's screams had gone from shrill to sharp, piercing, like a banshee. Her pale skin was shifting, turning darker and darker until it reached an almost purple shade, her eyes growing larger, her pupils dilating, her fingers becoming claws…

"What's happening to her?" the woman asked, her lips drawn back in disgust.

Kefka only watched in fascination. "This," he said, "is an esper."

With a tiny bit of pressure, he pressed the record button.


	3. Tennis Racket

**Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VI.**

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, everyone! I'm really surprised I'm even getting any, to be honest, so I'm glad! Also, a little note – since I'm trying to keep everyone in character for the most part, there will most likely not be very much fluff in this collection of drabbles. HOWEVER. I will have some :) and over time I'll learn more about how Kefka fluff works, because honestly, I can't see him fluffing with anyone O.o Well anyway! Here is said fluff, just to try it. Hope you like!

**Come Home to Papa**

**Prompt #3**

**Tennis Racket**

Kefka's room was full of things Terra had never seen before, never even imagined before. His travels had filled it with the strangest objects – metal boxes, wooden carvings, stone figures. There was a shelf of vials, a shelf of different colored rocks, a shelf of feathers from all sorts of various birds. There was even a shelf full of vases with flowers, both beautiful and exotic.

Terra ran her fingers along every last object, wanting to feel their stories: where they'd come from, what they'd experienced, how they'd come into contact with Kefka's hands. She wondered if she'd ever done anything that was of high enough caliber to be placed among these treasures.

She moved to the west wall from the south. This one had no shelves, no drawers, just many things hung up on it. Paintings, sketches, dreamcatchers, photographs…

One thing was odd-looking. The structure was wooden, with a long handle wrapped with leather, then it stretched into a teardrop with meshed wire in between the wood. She removed it off the wall and brushed it over with her fingertips, feeling the texture. The wood was splinterless, smooth like water, and the wire was made of fine horsehair, strung so tight that not a single splint end escaped.

"In my room again?"

Terra spun around, and Kefka stood smiling in his doorway, a fresh batch of sweat on his brow, his tan skin glowing with his eyes, as if he'd tucked the sun in his pocket and brought it inside with him.

She smiled bashfully. "It seems I can't stay away," she said.

He chuckled and walked inside. "Do you know what that is?" he asked.

She shook her head, holding the thing in front of her so she stared through the mesh at him.

This made him smile even brighter. "It's called a racket. You play a sport called tennis with it."

"What's tennis?" Terra asked, but mostly out of politeness. He was so close now that she didn't care what he said, as long as he continued speaking.

He seemed to notice this. "Some other time," he told her, standing not a foot away. He leaned down and wrapped his hand around hers that held the racket, pulling her forward and meeting her lips through the mesh.


	4. Electricity

**Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VI.**

A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews! I really appreciate them :) On another note, I hope you guys aren't confused on the whole Kefka having tan skin thing. It's kind of symbolic, but mostly it's just how I picture him before he went crazy – so when he's nice, sane Kefka, he's tan and pretty, but when he mean, crazy Kefka, he has the makeup on and he's all sharp looking. Just to clear that up. Also, an IMPORTANT message: there will be rated M chapters in this story – I just don't want to have to change the entire rating for a minority of chapter. So! Instead, I will post a warning at the top of each chapter so you guys can skip it if you don't really want to read. Anyway, hope you like!

**Come Home to Papa**

**Prompt #4**

**Electricity**

**Warning: This chapter is rated M for light sexual content.**

Terra paced outside Kefka's door, wringing her hands until her fingers threatened to fall off.

Last night, she'd struck lightning. Literally. In her room. Kefka had been helping her progress so much, she knew she'd be interested to hear about it.

But… she'd been half asleep, caught in a dream. A dream of kissing him.

Just a thought made her face flush like fire, and she blew out a breath, trying to calm herself. She couldn't tell him _that_!

She froze like a wild deer at the barrel of a gun as the doorknob turned, clicking as the door opened, and she was met with icy blue eyes.

"K-Kefka," she stammered, chilled to the bone from the ice in his gaze.

"I could hear you out here," he said, his voice cold and bored, and grungy from fatigue. "It's late; what do you want?"

Terra couldn't answer for a moment. She didn't understand – why did she feel this way around him? For so long, she hadn't felt anything, really. Until she'd started learning of her powers, she'd been veritably empty… Or was it until she'd met him?

He was staring at her expectantly. "Well?"

She tripped over her tongue before answering. "I-I made lightning."

His eyebrows raised infinitesimally. "You what?"

She swallowed. "Just a minute ago, back in my room… I was about to fall asleep and suddenly there was a bolt of lightning, and then it was gone. I… I think I did it."

"You think or you did?"

"I-I did. I did it."

"Hm." He regarded her for a moment, his eyes half closed but full of intensity that shot right through her. Finally, he stepped back and motioned for her to step inside.

She blinked, her eyes wide. He hadn't let her into his room for weeks now. Nonetheless, she didn't want to keep him waiting – he'd been losing his patience lately. She walked inside, holding back a flinch when he closed the door.

Without the light from the hall, the room was cast in shadows, nearly pitch black. Terra could feel him close behind her, but didn't turn, didn't move.

"Light the lamp," he commanded.

She shivered. "Now?" she asked. She wasn't calm enough, not around him, not when he was like this…

"Did it sound like a long-term request? _Light the lamp._"

Biting her lip, she closed her eyes and focused on fire: the warmth, the light, the flickering flames…

Nothing. Nothing at all.

"Do I need to say it again?" His voice was becoming a growl.

"No!" she said quickly, then lowered her voice. "No, no. I'll get it. Just a second…"

_Focus,_ she told herself, balling her hands into fists. _Fire. Embers. Flames. Crackling. Fire!_

She could feel it in her blood, burning, boiling over, but the room was still dark.

Tears brimmed at her eyes and she gritted her teeth. _Come on! Fire! Fire!_

Kefka's fingers wrapped around her arms from behind and she gasped, flinching in surprise, heart racing. Images flashed through her mind – Kefka's tan, his glowing smile, the two of them by the river, kissing her…

"Relax," he said, and he sounded almost like he used to, soft and lulling. "You're high-strung, darling; you can't make magic like that."

Make magic… It sounded so thrilling when he said it. It sent a chill up her spine.

His hands traveled along her arms. "Breathe," he told her. "Concentrate."

How could she concentrate when he put his hands on top of hers like that? But she did her best, taking a deep breath, feeling her lungs expand, then emptying them.

"Good," he crooned, moving her hands across her abdomen, slowly. Her palms ran along the silk of her shirt and her eyelids fluttered, threatening to open. _No,_ she thought firmly, shutting them tight. _Concentrate._

Kefka kept talking, his voice low, right by her ear. "Feel the heat on your skin." His hands ran along her body, trailing down her narrow hips.

"Kefka," she breathed, struggling and failing to keep her eyes closed any more. "I can't focus when you're…"

"Focus?" he asked, as if he'd forgotten his initial command.

"On the fire…?" Terra reminded him.

"Fire, right." Suddenly, his fingers gripped her arms and spun her around to face him. His eyes locked with hers, intensity burning.

The lamp lit.

Kefka smirked, not once breaking eye contact. "What are you focusing on now?"

"You," she answered without hesitation.

"And when the lightning struck?"

"You."

He chuckled, running his hands along her back, pulling her close. "I'm feeling a recurring theme here, aren't you?"

Terra opened her mouth, but it seemed he didn't want an answer. His lips crashed down on hers like a tidal wave – she nearly felt one coming on but stopped the water before it flooded his room. One hand on the back of her neck, the other at the small of her back, she had no hope of moving away.

But she didn't want to. She was scared – she'd always been frightened of him lately – but his unpredictability thrilled her. He held her so secure, but she was afraid of falling; being with him was a never-ending adrenaline rush.

She responded to him like an animal reacting on instinct. She threw her arms around his neck, her tongue wrestling with his in the fierce liplock he'd created.

Her clothes came off like they wanted to be on the floor, and she didn't make a move to stop him. His hot fingers tickling her bare skin, his lips on hers – it was more than she'd ever imagined.

She didn't see it happen, but suddenly she was against the wall, Kefka's body pressing her there. His hands on her hips, he lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, her heart shuddering at the loss of gravity. The shudder worked its way through her body at the look in his eyes – they locked on hers, full of promise. A madman's promise.

The act was unfamiliar, unheard of to the esper girl, but it felt natural – as natural as moving, blinking, breathing. A carnal dance of gyrating bodies to the beat of grunts and yells, moans and sighs, names and name-calling and words that tickled her ears and others that sounded like breaking glass. His soft whisper, his heated commands, his raspy growl – he had as many faces as scuffs on the floor from heels, fallen objects, the bed frame that seemed to move with them and creaked with every thrust of the hips or switch of positions – and there were many.

Terra lay flat on her back, holding the thin sheets to her body, staring at the ceiling. She tried her best to fill her lungs, finding it took more effort than normal. The air was heavy, full of sweat, frustration, excitement, and regret.

She heard Kefka's easy breathing next to her. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice the normal, deep timbre she remembered. It almost made her smile.

But smiling didn't feel right. She didn't know what she felt. Her limbs felt charged, like static was speeding through her veins, but otherwise she was hollow. "I'm fine," she said, her own voice flat. It was like she had laid down in front of a Magitek machine and let it step on her.

The bed creaked, and Kefka turned to face her. She didn't face him, even when he stroked her hair, which had fallen loose from its tie. She figured she wouldn't find it again.

It seemed like he wanted to say something, or felt like he should, but he didn't. After a moment, he stood up and pulled on his underwear, grabbing his robe from where it had been thrown. He went to the other side of the bed and tapped her on the shoulder. "Come on," he said softly. "I'll take you back to your room."

Terra said nothing, just nodded. She got up like she was glued to his mattress, taking his hand and pulling her unwilling body up to stand. His eyes roamed over her naked body, as if they hadn't already seen enough of it, then he blinked and pulled his robe around her shoulders and tied the long belt around her slender waist.

The walk was short – after all, the living quarters in the laboratory were excruciatingly small – and Kefka took her hand before she went inside. He caressed her face, soft and sweet, nothing like the animalistic, bestial moments just before, and pressed his lips against hers.

Lightning struck the floor.

Kefka pulled back and they both stared at the smoking black spot on the ground. A familiar, boyish smirk lit up his features. "You weren't lying, huh?" he said, then patted her head and went on his way, turning a corner, and he was gone.

Terra entered her room, shutting the door behind her and laying on her bed, disregarding her covers and instead pulling the thick robe around her. She was surrounded by his scent. Nothing specific, just full of _him_. It was so much that she could choke on it, but she took it in, replaying everything as sleep enveloped her.

And in the darkness, lightning struck twice.


	5. Worm

**Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VI.**

A/N: I got a review from a person who called themselves Jos, and I'd like to reply to them. They said that this story seems to have too much fluff. Well, Jos, I think you're right, in some regards. I write by what the prompt is, and sometimes it's fluff. Othertimes, it's terrifying, evil, insane Kefka ready to destroy the world. We just haven't gotten there yet :P But I want to let everyone know: whether you like the fluff or dislike it, there will be some, along with the non-fluff, the hardcore evil, and all the rest in between. Just keep in mind that this is mostly a romance story.

**Come Home to Papa**

**Prompt #5**

**Worm**

"Worm." The word was a sneer dripping through his teeth. His eyes glowed with manic excitement.

The man couldn't run. The feeling of his leg had gone away, seeped onto the ground with his blood.

The clown called over his shoulder: "Terra!"

Almost immediately: "Yes, sir?" The voice was bright, just like the violet eyes that stared only at her commander.

"Get rid of him."

The thin crown around her forehead flashed, as did her eyes. "Immediately," she responded.

The man's last sight was the horrendous gathering of fire in her hands, reflecting in those young eyes.


End file.
